“So one night, the dragon, who had severe hay fever, sneezed inside Mademoiselle’s beautiful home and the fire destroyed everything.”
“She left him?”
Rain turned his face up to Tristan’s. “No, see, the fire freed the lady of all of her responsibilities and false pretenses. She abandoned the French Rivera and moved into his cave.”
Tristan leaned in closer, skimming his nose against his. “And she wears the burned dress to remind herself of what real happiness is.”